


How it Fails

by dawniekins18



Series: Considering Things So Far [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Protective!Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawniekins18/pseuds/dawniekins18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There ain't lot of rules in Mickey’s family. Not many good ones at any rate. There is only one rule that ever really made sense or stuck with Mickey through all the bullshit. Protect what’s yours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

There ain’t a lot of rules in Mickey’s family. Not many good ones at any rate. Love, trust, honesty- shit like that never was a big concern in the Milkovich clan. There is only one rule that ever really made sense or stuck with Mickey through all the bullshit. Protect what’s yours.

It’s another cold Wednesday morning in a useless winter month. Mickey wakes up alone, but then quickly remembers Ian went back to his place after working last night. Mickey had been stuck with baby duty. But he’s done with that shit for a while, throwing a bone to Sveltana every once in a while to keep her off his ass. Some money, a night of watching the kid, keeps her and their relationship fairly mellow. 

“Where you goin’?” Mandy is on the couch still in the shirt she sleeps in. It’s early for him to be up.

“Goin’ to get Ian, Get food or some shit.” He grabs his coat. Ian’s probably ready for breakfast.

“Bring me something!” Mandy yells after him, and he flips her off. She’s laughing as he walks out.

Ian has been doing a lot better recently. They finally found a decent combination of medication and he’s more like himself. Less all over the walls and able to get outta bed in the morning. His moods are decent, and besides some fucking side effects, things are good. He gets tired easy, and it can be a fucking challenge to get him to eat, but he’s better. 

Mickey is just waiting for the other shoe to fucking drop on them. But he’s also a little hopeful.

“Where’s Ian?” Mickey walks through the backdoor of the Gallagher house. 

“Yeah, don’t fucking knock or anything.” Lip grumbles as he comes down the stairs with Liam on his hip. 

“He’s in the shower.” Debbie says from the table where she’s eating cereal with Carl.

Mickey nods his thanks and runs up the steps to the bathroom. The shower is on so he walk in. 

“Hey, ya wanna get some food?”

He yanks the shower curtain back without waiting for a response.

“Jesus Christ Mickey, can’t you knock?” Ian turns off the water and glares at him. He looks tired and a little upset.

“What ain’t like I haven’t seen it all befo...that’s new.” Mickey’s eyes narrow.

There is a huge fucking bruise on his ribs, and when Ian turns Mickey sees his face is fucked too. 

“The fuck happened? That wasn’t there yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“The fuck I won’t.” Mickey’s eyes scan the rest of his body while Ian reaches around him for a towel. There are more bruises down his arm that look like fingerprints from someone grabbing his pale flesh.

“What happened? Tell me right the fuck now.”

Ian sighs and tries to maneuver around him. “Can I get some pants on first?” 

“If while you’re putting them on, I’m getting some fucking answers.”

Ian opens the bathroom door after tieing the towel around his waist. 

"Have you ever noticed how much you say 'fuck'? I mean around here, everyone says it a lot I guess. But you say it in place of almost every other adverb or adjective." He leads them back to his bedroom and start pulling on some clothes.

"That's real fucking insightful. But it's not fucking telling me why you have bruises everywhere. And it's not even fucking true. I sometimes say goddamn or shitty."

"I have like three bruises. You've seen me with way more." Mickey meets Ian's eyes. The unspoken 'given me more too' lingers between them. Ian's eyes aren't accusing, but Mickey feels an ache in his chest regardless. 

"That was before."

Before what, Mickey isn't sure. Before he knew he loved him or maybe loved him. Or before he knew how vulnerable Ian really was. It's hard to say. He just knows- no one is fucking beating on Ian. No one.

Ian shifts and looks away from whatever he's seeing on Mickey's face.

"It's no big deal."

"Let me be the judge of that."

Ian rolls his eyes. "Let's just go get McDonald's and forget about it. Breakfast food will be done soon."

Ian manages to get past his position in front of the door while he's distracted checking his phone. 

"You fucker. It ain't even nine yet. We have plenty of time." He shout's to Ian's disappearing back.

The kitchen is now empty except for Liam and Lip. Mickey watches Ian duck past them, hiding his face. 

"Hey, you know what happened last night?"

"Jesus Mickey, leave Lip outta this."

"Know about what?" Lip looks up from feeding Liam and catches sight of Ian.

"Why tough guy here is covered in fucking bruises."

"What the hell's going on?" Lip has gotten up and moved toward Ian to get a good look of his face. He doesn't look happy.

"His ribs have a huge goddamn bruise, and he's been roughed up."

"The fucking hell?" Lip is looking at Ian for answers but shoots a worried look to Mickey. Lip and him ain't really friends, but they usually see eye to eye when it come to Ian. They've tag-teamed him before. Ian can be pretty fucking stubborn.

"Can we drop it already? It's nothing."

"I'd be happy to never mention it again if you'll tell me who fucking hit you."

"Spill it, Ian." Lip adds.

Ian turns away, grabs a mug, and pours himself coffee.

He looks at them, and then sighs.

"Someone saw me taking my meds during my break last night at work. They thought they were recreational. They wanted some, I said no. Later, they took them. That's it."

"Who?" Mickey tried to control the anger creeping into his voice. 'Someone' is a fucking deadman.

"I don't know, Mickey. Some asshole. Let's just forget about it."

"How much did they take?" Lip asks.

This is a good question. Ian's medication ain't cheap. They really had to scrape and do some questionable shit to afford it.

"Too much." Ian looks down. Ashamed. Mickey is gonna fucking murder whoever did this.

"All of it?" Mickey's a little panicked at the thought. It'll be fucking rough to try and get more in one day.

"No, but I'm gonna have to get some soon."

"We're gonna." Mickey corrects.

"I can take care of it. I'll work doubles. It'll be fine."

Mickey snorts. "You're really fucking losing it if you think you're ever going back there again."

"It's my job Mickey."

"It was pretty shitty and dangerous before...now you shouldn't be there." Lip says looking worriedly at Ian. Liam makes a noise, and Lip grabs him a sippy cup that was by the sink.

"Why you think I'm too crazy now to take care of myself?"

Mickey can't help think that, yes, he probably is. Someone with impaired judgement judgment really shouldn't be working in such a fucking hovel.

"Well you got beat up for your prescribed medication... so it's not exactly a dream job." Lip avoids the question.

"It's the most money I can make and this shit isn't cheap."

"I can fucking get you what you need."

"Yeah, Mickey, because robbing places and people is the safer option."

"Safer for you."

Ian's anger softens in response to that.

"Look Ian, Fiona is gonna agree with me and Mickey, and if she doesn't want you workin' there, it ain't happening. You still seventeen."

Lip picks up Liam who is now finished eating.

"I gotta get to class. I'll be back tonight. Fiona should be home in an hour. Don't even think about going to work tonight. And text me how much the new medication with cost. I'll scrape my pennies to help out."

"You don't have to do that. I'll figure it out." 

"Call me Mickey, if he tries to go." Lip ignores Ian's word, but pulls him in for a hug. "Be good." Is all he says, making Ian roll his eyes.

Lips out the door leaving the two of them alone.

"Can you believe him? Threatening to tell Fiona? I'm going tonight, it's good money."

"Yeah, you're going."

Ian's head snaps toward him, surprise written all over his face.

"You're gonna tell them you're done. Then you're gonna point out who stole from you, and I'm gonna fucking kill him."


	2. Chapter 2

"Jesus Christ Mickey, you're out of your mind if you think that's happening." Ian is annoyed that Mickey would even think of this bullshit. And it's doubtful the guy would show up at the club again tonight. You can only surprise jump someone once. Or that's a pretty good argument if Mickey insists later.

God knows he fudged the details on the whole thing. He's not a fucking idiot. 

"Fine, then you're not fucking going." Mickey takes out a cigarette and lights it up.

"Sure. Whatever. You and Lip can try and stop me. It'll be fun." 

Mickey flips him off and blows smoke into his face. Fucker. "Can we go now?" he asks after another drag. "I want a fucking hashbrown, and if they've switched to fries, I'll be pissed."

Ian follows him out the door after grabbing his coat off the rack. 

The walk to McDonalds isn't very long, but it's pretty cold. Ian zips up his coat and keeps his hands in his pockets. Mickey doesn't really seem to be in a talking mood, so Ian follows his lead. Whatever Mickey thinks about the events of this morning, makes Ian worried enough to want to do some of his own thinking. Mickey can be pretty violent when provoked, and Ian knows that his safety is a point of contention with Mickey.

Unless he's the one doing the beat down, he doesn't like Ian to be fucked with. This bipolar thing... it fucked Ian up. But it also brought out a whole new Mickey. He was... not gentler really. Not exactly. But cautious. And he didn't take kindly to anyone even hinting at bothering Ian. After Ian's time in bed and the hospital...Mickey had been different ever since he came back. He took care of Ian. Or he did from Mickey's own fucked up perspective. Not that Ian was complaining.

"What do ya want?" they're both considering the menu, Mickey has ordered and now is looking at Ian.

"I don't know." Ian is spacing at the menu, still a little inside his own thoughts.

Mickey orders for him. And when they sit down to eat, Ian sees exactly what he didn't know he wanted. 

While they're eating their food, extra hash browns included, MIckey keeps shooting him weird looks between bites and sips of his coffee.

"What?" 

"What what? I'm fucking eating. Didn't say shit."

Ian takes a deep breath and exhales. "Your eyes keep saying something."

"Are they saying 'I'm fucking eating' because that's all that's happening".

"No. They're saying 'I want to say something to Ian but I'm being a little bitch about it'". Ian has just waltzed into dangerous territory. 

Mickey's eyes narrow and he drops the McMuffin he's holding.

"Fine. You want it like that. It can be like that."

"Oh for fucks sake, just say it already."

"You're too crazy to work at a place like that."

Ian freezes. Inside and out. He wasn't expecting that. Not even close. He vaguely remembers asking Lip that question in annoyance. Never expecting an answer. Especially not from Mickey. 

"Fuck. That came out wrong."

"Did it?" Ian's voice is steely.

"Yeah, kinda. Look, that place is shit. I found you there, fucked outta your mind before we knew you were sick. You were in the hospital for Christ's sake. I don't know why Fiona let you go back."

'Let' is a strong word for what happened there. Fiona is working the night shift too. It just played into his favor.

"It's good money." Ian doesn't even know why he's defending this. He should just leave or something. 

"Yeah. They stole a couple hundred dollars worth of shit from you last night."

"I made a mistake. I'll be more careful."

"Look, I just think it's a rough place. And maybe, that's not what you fucking need right now."

"Because I'm too crazy?"

"Because you're sick. And it sucks. But I'd be saying the same shit if you weren't. I'm just saying it louder now."

Ian looks down. "What else can I do?"

"Fuck if I know. But you're young. You can figure it out."

Ian snorts. But starts eating again. They both do. 

He knows Mickey. Knows he doesn't think he's crazy, or not in a bad way. If anyone else had said it, Mickey would kill them. The c-word is just something that can only be said in certain circumstances. Ian isn't sure if this is one, but he's not mad, so it must be. 

The walk back to the house is shorter. Or it feels that way. He's alone for most of it. Mickey went to his place to bring food to Mandy. He'll probably be back later. It never feels like they're that far apart, not since he came back, and especially after the hospital. 

Fiona is passed out on the couch when he walks in. 

She snaps awake as the door closes behind him. She smiles but then her face clouds as she sees the bruise.

"The fuck happened?"

Ian shrugs and flops down next to her.

"Jerk at the club."

Fiona has that look on her face. She's stricken and angry.

"What happened to the bouncers?"

If Lip or Mickey had thought to ask that, this would be an awkward moment. But because it's Fiona, he tells the truth.

"One of the bouncers did it."

She sighs and brushes her and over his head.

"Well you ain't fucking going back there."

"What else am I gonna do?"

Fiona pauses. He knows she wants to bring up school. But since his time at the hospital, no one wants to push him toward stress. At least not yet. He figures when the semester ends, they'll join forces.

"We need some help at the restaurant in the mornings. Maybe my boss will do me a favor."

Ian snorts. 

"Since when do bosses do anyone favors?"

"I don't know. This one seems different. He's nice but in a solid way. Hidden kinda. Like Mickey."

Ian can't help but look at her in surprise.

"You think Mickey's nice?" 

She shrugs.

"He nice to you. Most the time. He's never mean to the kids. He puts up with a lot of shit."

Ian's face must say something because she continues.

"He's not nice like you and Kev, that obvious, gentle nice. And he ain't nice like Vi where you realize she's actually a big softy underneath it all. He's nice like Lip."

"I'm not sure Lip would appreciate that comparison."

"I just mean... Lip can make you wonder if he actually fucking hates you, then he'll pay all the bills and make dinner when you're too tired to get outta bed."

They sit in silence for a minute, both thinking.

"I'm not gentle nice." Ian mutters under his breath.

Fiona lets out a loud snort. 

"You're the sweetest person I know. You have been since the day you were born. Why do you think Mickey acts like he does?"

"Because I'm a Viking in the sack."

Another snort. "Maybe. But if he has any of the feelings Lip and I do for you, it's because he sees what we do."

"That I'm his brother?" 

"No." Her voice is serious now. "That people will hurt you for that kindness. It's our job to look out for you."

Ian rolls his eyes. But allows her to pull him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry I've slacked at my job lately. We've got a full house, and I thought I was... I thought you needed me to let you go. I'm gonna do better."

"You did fine. I did need to go." Ian pauses thinking of how to make her understand. "I needed to know I had to come back."

++++++++++++++++++++++

MIckey does come back later.

His face is bruised and his knuckles are bloody.

He drops Ian's stolen medication on the table and sits down with Fiona and Lip.

"Fuckin' bouncer took it. He was tryin' to fuckin sell it on the street."

"He alive?"

"Barely."

Lip nods, satisfied with the answer.

"Ian ok?" Mickey looks at the stairs.

"He's fine. He's gonna work at the restaurant." Fiona takes a drag off the cigarette Lip hands her.

"Good."

They all sit in silence for a few minutes. Mickey feels more relaxed than he has all day. He gets up and heads toward the stairs. Ian is waiting.


End file.
